


you're the sunshine of my life

by ephers



Series: Best Part [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Family, Alternate Universe - Parents, Babies, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, JaeYong - Freeform, Jaehyun and Taeyong are married, M/M, Multi, and adopting babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 22:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19412281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephers/pseuds/ephers
Summary: “I'm doing this with you, you know that, right?” Jaehyun murmured, winding his arm around Taeyong’s waist and pulling him closer. “So even if you're not perfect, it's fine. I will never be, either. That's why we're doing this together."or:Taeyong and Jaehyun are married and in the process of adopting a pair of twins. With a little help and a lot of love from their loved ones, things might just turn out to be fine, after all.





	you're the sunshine of my life

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a day early, but: Happy Birthday, Lee Taeyong ❤
> 
> This takes place in an alternate universe where gay marriage and adoption are legal and accepted in Korea. I admit I have very little idea on how adoption is done in South Korea. I did some research, and there is a high chance that I’m getting some things wrong. For that, I apologise. The tiny amount depicted in this story is a mix of information from what I’ve read about adoption process, mostly in the US and UK. I’ve also taken several creative liberties to further the story along. I hope it is enough to suspend your disbelief. 
> 
> I’ve also decided to use Xiaojun and Hendery’s Korean names (Deokjun/Kwanhyung) here because it makes more sense in this story.
> 
> Massive thanks to [Kei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_kei/pseuds/n_kei), for proofreading and for her suggestions, which made this story better than I could ever have written it. She is a magician with words, and a part of this was in fact inspired by her words. All my love ❤

They hadn’t planned on having children so soon. 

They knew they wanted to adopt, eventually, or find a surrogate, but they had agreed to wait for a few years. They were both driven and dedicated to their profession. Jaehyun had left a promising career a year ago to join a tech startup, one that was owned by Taeyong’s brother in law. It had meant longer hours and more challenging work, but it was the kind of professional learning and career development Jaehyun knew he couldn’t find in traditional companies. 

Taeyong’s music producing career had also begun to take off. People were starting to look him up without him having to send out demos first. His job kept him so busy that he had to scale back his teaching hours in the dance studio to once a week, and that was only because his students begged him not to leave.

They’d signed up to an adoption agency because their social worker had said that, in most cases, it took years for families to adopt—sometimes longer for same-sex couples. Jaehyun had thought that they would be more ready in a year or two, more secure. 

Then, one Sunday afternoon, Jooeun-ssi called and told them that there was a woman who wanted to meet them. She was two months pregnant—with twins. She had picked them out from a list of potential parents and wanted both babies adopted, or not at all.

“Twins,” Taeyong he looked at Jaehyun, half-terrified and half-hopeful. “Two babies.”

“It’s a big decision, so think about it,” Jooeun-ssi had said, gently, “and get back to me within the week.”

* 

They talked about it immediately.

Jaehyun led his husband to the kitchen and offered to make coffee, because difficult discussions were always easier with a hot drink in your hands. He sat Taeyong down in their breakfast nook and set to make a cup of coffee for himself and a mug of warm, sweetened milk for Taeyong, his beverage of choice when he needed comfort or reassurance. 

Finances were the first thing they discussed, because it was important and practical. They had agreed not to adopt unless they felt stable financially and emotionally, because these things were important to them in raising children and taking full responsibility for their well-being. They were both firmly aligned about this. 

Jaehyun put down Taeyong’s mug of warm milk in front of his husband and kissed him on the forehead. For extra reassurance.

“We didn’t plan for this, did we?” Taeyong started, fingers lacing around the warmth of his mug.

“Definitely didn’t plan for two of them.” Jaehyun smiled a little, sitting across from him. “But you’ve always said that you wanted to have more than one kid.” They had both agreed that growing up with siblings made them better, more considerate people.

“Yeah, but not… not so soon. And not at the same time.” 

“Love.” Jaehyun took both of Taeyong’s hands in his own, squeezing gently. “We can afford this. More than.” 

Taeyong grew quiet. Jaehyun waited.

Over the years, Jaehyun had learned to let Taeyong have his own space to think. It was difficult, at first, because Jaehyun was the kind of person that made decisions quickly, firmly, while Taeyong needed time to process his feelings and consider things from every possible angle. Eventually, it became one of Taeyong’s quirks that Jaehyun tolerated—even adored.

However, finances… or rather, financial dependency, would always be a delicate issue between them.

Jaehyun had grown up in a well-off family, the kind that bequeathed multiple generations of inherited wealth to their descendants. His father was a consultant for an international agency and had spent more of his professional years overseas rather than in South Korea. As a result, Jaehyun and his younger brother, Jeno, had spent their formative years in the US. 

Jaehyun had grown up never wanting for anything material. The house that they lived in right now, in fact, was an old family home of the Jungs’, a wedding gift from Jaehyun’s parents. 

Taeyong had a different upbringing. 

Taeyong had told Jaehyun that he barely remembered his father. He had left when Taeyong’s younger brother, Jaemin, was born, leaving Taeyong’s mother with three children and just enough to survive. Jaehyun would be forever amazed that Taeyong’s mother, through sheer determination and resourcefulness, had managed to put Taeyong and his siblings through college and raised them to be the remarkable adults they were now. 

That had also meant Taeyong and his older sister, Sunmi-noona, had to step into the roles of caretakers and parents for Jaemin. They were only seven and ten years old then, children themselves, but Taeyong had told Jaehyun that they understood enough of the situation and the sacrifices that they had to make to help their mother keep their little family together. He never resented his circumstances. Jaehyun also knew that all the Lee siblings were fiercely independent because of the way they had to raise themselves and each other. Taeyong had always been the one who took care of everyone, the one everyone depended on in their circle of friends. He absolutely hated being an inconvenience. 

Taeyong didn’t begrudge Jaehyun’s wealth or the ease with which he weaved through life, but he did feel uncomfortable about being financially-dependent on Jaehyun, like letting Jaehyun pay most of their bills. Or their potential children’s bills.

“You shouldn’t have to use your personal savings for this.” Taeyong finally said, eyes fixed on their intertwined hands. “We’re supposed to be doing this together.”

It would make sense, if they were raising one child at a time. They were both decent savers and they lived comfortably, but not beyond their means. Twins, however, meant paying double for everything at the same time: necessities, medical costs, education. 

“What else would I use it for, hyung?” 

“I don’t know.” Taeyong shrugged. “Things that make you happy?”

Jaehyun contemplated his answer for a moment, running his thumbs in small, gentle circles against the back of Taeyong’s hands.

“Do you want to do this?” He asked. Taeyong’s breathing hitched. Jaehyun was dead sure of his husband’s answer, but he knew Taeyong would need some reassurance to admit it. “Because I do. I want to do this with you. It doesn’t matter if it’s now or sometime in the future. I want to raise a family with you. I want to see our children take after you, or me, or an unholy combination of us—” 

Taeyong’s laughter was a little wet around the edges. “I hope they take after you, because I’m a whole mess.” 

“Well, you’re the loveliest, kindest… most organized mess I know. I think they’ll be lucky to take after you.” They shared a fond smile. “So what do you say? Wanna do this with me?”

“God, it’s like you’re proposing again.” Taeyong sighed, but Jaehyun knew his mind was made up. “You know this means we’re not going to have a peaceful night’s sleep for the next five years, right?”

“I’m fine with that.” He squeezed Taeyong’s hands tighter, excitement bubbling in his chest.

“And we’ll have to finish the children's bedroom soon.”

“We’ll start as soon as possible, love.”

“We’ll have to baby-proof the house.” Taeyong was starting to look a little panicked. Jaehyun could just _feel_ Taeyong composing a mental checklist of things he would need to research on later. “We have to buy supplies—I have to talk to Miya-noona. Jaehyun, there’s so much to do.”

“I’m sure we’ll have time for that.” Jaehyun had little knowledge of babies, at the moment, but he was certain that they were not born ready to crawl around and hurt themselves. “Hyung. Babe.”

Taeyong paused and looked at him.

“C’mere.” Jaehyun opened his arms.

Taeyong narrowed his eyes. “I’m not freaking out.”

Taeyong was _definitely_ freaking out. “I know, but I am freaking out and I need cuddles?”

“... Okay.” Taeyong walked over to Jaehyun and climbed on his lap. Jaehyun wrapped his arms around Taeyong’s waist and pressed his nose into the crook of Taeyong's neck, simply holding him close until he felt the tension bleed out of his husband.

“Jaehyunnie?” Taeyong whispered, after a moment.

“Mmm?”

“I can’t wait to do this with you.”

Jaehyun smiled.

* 

Once they gave their confirmation, it took two more weeks before they were able to meet the birth mother of their future twins. Their social worker assured them that it wasn’t because the birth mother was wavering in her decision, but because the agency had to review their adoption assessment report, which was last done more than six months ago. They met the birth mother at the adoption agency’s office—a neutral ground. Taeyong would have loved for her to come and see their home, but it might not be comfortable for her, and they didn’t want that. 

Hwang Miyoung, the birth mother, was twenty-two years old. She was in her last year of her undergraduate degree: a scholarship student, whip-smart, with sky-high ambitions and clear plans on how to achieve them. The pregnancy was a result of a drunken one night stand, the first and last mistake of its kind, Miyoung stated firmly. The father was no longer in the picture. He was an exchange student from another university whose name Miyoung couldn’t even remember. Miyoung herself was estranged to her own family, a result of an abusive childhood. She had spent five years bouncing around in the foster system before emancipating herself at sixteen, and would wish none of that life on her own children.

“I don’t want to terminate my pregnancy,” Miyoung told them. “But I’ve never wanted children, and that hasn’t changed. That will never change.”

Miyoung was conventionally beautiful, with sharp but delicate features that Jaehyun could imagine seeing on TV. She could have easily belonged to one of those idol groups Taeyong was producing songs for. At ten weeks pregnant, her baby bump had barely been visible. She spoke to them in a calm, firm tone of someone who was sure of what they wanted and could argue against the entire world for it. Her smile, however, was edged with weariness, as if she was bracing to be dismissed and having to justify her choices yet again.

Jaehyun exchanged a look with Taeyong, laced his fingers together, and looked her in the eyes when he said, "We understand.”

Her smile softened. “Thank you for not questioning my choices.”

“May I ask why you chose us?” Taeyong asked. Jaehyun had been wondering as well. The agency had a long list of hopeful, capable parents. “Out of everyone, why us?”

Miyoung studied him for a moment.

“I’m a classmate of your brother.”

Jaehyun wasn’t expecting that.

“Jaeminnie?” Taeyong blinked. “You're a student at SNU?”

“I’m a law student, like Jaemin-ssi.” Miyoung nodded. “We paired up for a project on family law. In one of our discussions, he’d mentioned being interviewed by the adoption agency as a part of your assessment process.”

Jaehyun remembered those long six months. He remembered the never-ending paperwork, the multiple home visits, the preparatory sessions. The interviews with close friends and family happened after. Taeyong’s siblings, Sunmi and Jaemin, had been some of the people interviewed during that process.

“He spoke of you both very fondly.” Miyoung smiled. “He mentioned being raised by you and your sister, and how loving and positive that experience was for him. He’s a good person. Doesn't judge anyone. Humble." She added, "Treats everyone with respect. He’s popular in our uni—not just because he’s cute, but also because he’s kind and reliable. So I believed him when he said he had good upbringing.” 

Jaehyun could feel Taeyong puffing up with pride beside him. He couldn't help but feel proud of his brother in law as well. Jaemin was everything Miyoung said and more. That was why Jaehyun approved of his relationship with Jeno—not that his little brother needed his approval. Jeno was too nice and trusting of other people. Jaehyun knew Jaemin would take good care of him.

“When I found out I was pregnant… you were the first person I thought of. I remember the agency he mentioned, so I called them, found your profile and … here we are.”

Here they were, indeed.

Jooeun-ssi expertly guided the rest of their meeting and made sure the important issues were raised, to be discussed now or decided on a later date. Miyoung wanted to be as little involved as possible: photos and updates were fine, but no visits for the foreseeable future, and she didn’t want to have any influence on raising the babies.

”They will be your children, not mine. I’m not putting them up for adoption so I could parent them remotely.” She said. 

Jaehyun was relieved to hear that. 

Miyoung was also independent and resourceful, so used to taking care of herself even before she was emancipated that she would honestly understand if Jaehyun and Taeyong decided to only be involved financially before the twins were born.

“But… are we allowed to take care of you?” Taeyong asked. Miyoung looked confused.

“You mean like, buying me prenatal vitamins and paying for my doctor’s visits?”

“Well, that, yes. But also…” Taeyong grew quiet, not quite sure how far he could push her. She was still a stranger, after all. He looked at Jaehyun, wide-eyed, teeth worrying his lower lip.

“Also if he’s also allowed to cook you meals, come with you on all your doctor’s visits, drive you around, make sure you’re exercising enough, drink plenty of water and have sufficient rest.” Jaehyun clarified. “Probably also rub your ankles if they are sore, unless you find that creepy.”

“... yes, all of that.” Taeyong said faintly.

There was a short silence, which was broken by Jooeun-ssi clearing her throat. She sounded like she was trying not to laugh. Miyoung appeared dumbfounded.

“I live in the dorms... paid for by the school.” She finally said.

“I can drop your meals there everyday.” Taeyong perked up.

“No… I mean, we have meal plans.”

“Oh. But.” Taeyong frowned. He was so obviously trying to find a diplomatic way of telling her about the many failings of university dining hall meals. Jaehyun had no idea. He went to college in the US. The food in his university dining hall _sucked._ Perhaps South Korea suffered from similar situation?

“But homemade meals would be great, I suppose?”

“I promise I’ll cook you all the delicious, healthy food you want.” Taeyong looked like an excited child.

Jaehyun smiled. Miyoung was in for a ride.

*

It turned out babies needed a lot of supplies—a lot more than Jaehyun would have ever expected. Taeyong had created a living spreadsheet where he listed the things they would need and divided them into three columns: “Buy”, “Rent” and “Borrow From”. It became a bit complicated when they realized they would need to borrow from two different parents, or buy things on top of borrowing something similar, because, well, they needed two sets of everything.

Taeyong’s noona, Sunmi (whom herself had two sons under the age of four, hence by definition was an old pro), had a weakness for cute baby clothing, so she had a literal suitcase of new and barely-used baby clothes, mittens and socks, which she just passed on to them—suitcase included.

“I don’t plan on having any more kids, so just pass them on to one of your friends when they need them.” She said when she dropped it off. Jaehyun thought it was a fantastic idea—babies grew so quickly, after all. “Deokjun and Kwanhyungie are more than a handful. Well, Junnie is an angel. Kwanhyungie, on the other hand...”

Jaehyun felt a smile creep into his face. Taeyong’s nephews, Deokjun and Kwanhyung, couldn’t be more different. Deokjun—or little Jun, how Taeyong had taken to calling his favorite nephew—was the sweetest, most angelic child Jaehyun had ever met. He was shy, well-mannered, and rarely threw tantrums. Sunmi had said that Deokjun had all her looks and Taeil’s personality. 

Deokjun had fallen in love with Taeyong as swiftly as Taeyong had fallen in love with him. Whenever the two were in the same room, Deokjun would cling to Taeyong and shower him with sticky baby kisses, which Taeyong received happily. Taeyong would be the first person he ran to when his parents weren’t in the room. Sometimes _even_ when his parents were in the room. 

Taeyong mentioned once that Deokjun was one of the reasons why he’d wanted children of his own. Jaehyun could see why. Little Junnie looked at Taeyong like he hung the moon and stars... and taught the moon rabbit to pound his favorite rice cake. 

Kwanhyung, on the other hand.

Kwanhyung was the bravest, most curious baby Jaehyun had ever known. He couldn’t stay still even as a newborn. At one year old, he’d mastered crawling and seemed to think that everything he could see, he should touch—and everything he could touch, he should put in his mouth. Babysitting Kwanhyung was a crash course in being constantly alert and ready to snatch half of the things he got his hands on before he ate them: toys, the carpet, insects. Anything within his reach will be marked by his saliva, including your hands.

Still, when Kwanhyung gave him that bright, gummy smile, Jaehyun could only sigh and surrendered his fingers for the baby to gnaw. Better his hands than the table. 

"Also, you know that newborns go through bottles and diapers very, very quickly, right?”

“Yeah?”

“You have to feed them every two hours, Jaehyun.” 

“That’s… a lot of bottles.” Jaehyun mumbled. Taeyong’s fingers were flying against his mobile phone screen, no doubt updating his spreadsheet. 

“I’ve included some swaddling blankets in the suitcase, but some receiving blankets will make your life so much easier. Knowing Yongie, you’ll probably need multiples. And bibs. So many bibs.”

“There are different types of blankets?” Jaehyun was starting to realize that he was woefully under-informed. He might need to schedule some time to Google these things.

“Oh, Jaehyunnie.” Sunmi patted his shoulder. She turned to Taeyong and said, “Taeil had this same dumb look on his face when I was pregnant with Junjun. You get used to it.” She paused. “Wait, are you actually—”

“Freaking out harder than he is? Yes.” Taeyong replied, voice tight. This did not bode well for any of them, but Jaehyun appreciated the solidarity. 

Sunmi looked at them, one after the other, eyes contemplative. Sometimes Jaehyun thought this was why she matched Taeil perfectly, they both had the kind of preternatural calm that normal human beings would never be able to emulate.

“Eh.” She shrugged, after a moment. “You’ll get used to the feeling.” 

In a more helpful turn, Kun, one of Taeyong’s college housemates and best friends, gave them a list of _must-have, nice-to-have_ and _actually-useless_ baby supplies, along with the ones he dropped off that his toddler had grown out of. Jaehyun liked Kun and his wife. Their one-year old son, Yangyang, was a precocious toddler with the widest streak of mischief that Jaehyun was sure would make Kun age prematurely. Taeyong and Jaehyun once thought about what would happen if Yangyang met Kwanhyung.

They decided to delay this meeting for as long as possible. 

Kun also came with useful, practical advice. Jaehyun had no idea where Kun got them; he’d only been a father for all of one year. 

“I’m a pediatrician,” Kun sighed. “Most of the time, this also means I’m a friend and therapist to my patients’ parents.”

Jaehyun and Taeyong had agreed to ask Kun to become their pediatrician, not just because Taeyong trusted him, but also because Kun was actually a wonderful pediatrician, as evidenced by how loved he was by the hospital he worked for and by his patients. 

Kun was also one of the few friends (the others being Yuta and Ten, also Taeyong’s college housemates) of Taeyong’s who didn’t hesitate on telling him the things he needed to hear. 

“Learn to accept help.” Kun told Taeyong, familiar with his stubborn, self-reliant nature after four years of living together. He turned to Jaehyun afterwards: “If he refuses, you accept it on his behalf.”

“Hey!”

“Trust me, hyung, after a week of very little sleep, you would _beg_ for help.”

“I can take care of myself.” Taeyong pouted. Jaehyun would have cooed, but he didn’t want to encourage his husband. Yuta and Ten had regaled him with many stories of Taeyong’s allergy to asking for help, including that one time when he lied to Yuta about his fever so he would not cancel on football camp. Ten was visiting family in Thailand and Kun was back home, helping his little brother with his college entrance exam.

Kun had returned to their house the day after to Taeyong passed out on their kitchen floor, burning up and dehydrated.

Yuta had been so angry when he found out he’d refused to talk to Taeyong for days. Ten had to sit them down like children and forced them to apologize to each other. 

To this day, Taeyong and Yuta still denied that they had both cried when they finally made up. Kun, who was slightly out of Yuta and Taeyong’s lines of sight, had given Jaehyun an imperceptible nod in that universal way that said ‘they totally did’.

“Sure, but you’re not just taking care of _yourself._ You’ll be taking care of two infants as well.” Kun deadpanned. 

Taeyong had nothing to say to that. 

Jaehyun knew Kun was his favorite for a reason.

*

More often than not, Jaehyun couldn’t come to Miyoung’s doctor’s appointments, no matter how understanding Taeil was about their situation. NeoCity Tech was on its third year and had finally raised enough funds to execute the plans they could only dream of when they first started. They were expanding on a rapid pace, and even though Taeil personally interviewed their potential hires, they couldn’t recruit people quick enough. In short, everyone was pressed and pulling long hours. Jaehyun understood. This was the nature of start-up companies and he knew what he signed up for when he decided to take up Taeil’s offer. 

This also meant he got second-hand updates from Taeyong about the condition of Miyoung and their unborn twins. 

Taeyong, to absolutely no one’s surprise, cried when he first heard the twins’ heartbeat. Jaehyun was secretly glad he wasn’t there because he wasn’t sure he would be able to hide his tears as well.

Ultrasound pictures started decorating their refrigerator, stuck side-by-side to their weekly shopping list, meal plans for them and for Miyoung, postcards from Yuta’s travels and their vacation Polaroids. Sixteenth week, twentieth week, twenty-fourth week. They found out the gender of both babies at Miyoung’s fifth month. 

Jaehyun sat down, then, on his desk, in the middle of a workday, and stared at the latest sonogram photos Taeyong sent to him over KKT.

After a moment or three, Doyoung opened the door to his office and popped his head in.

“You’ve been staring at your phone for five minutes.”

Jaehyun blinked at him.

“I’m going to be a father.”

Doyoung stared at him the way he stared at a particularly confusing partnership agreement.

“No offense, but didn’t we establish this two months ago?”

“Uh.” Jaehyun felt like his brain was working at half the speed it usually did. “I’m going to be a father. Of twin girls.”

“Oh!” Doyoung approached Jaehyun’s desk with a grin at sat down at one of the chairs in front of him. “Twin girls! That’s great! Congratulations!” He paused, smile faltering. “Right?”

“No, what—yeah.” Jaehyun quickly assured him. “Yeah, I’m happy about it. I would’ve been happy either way. It’s just that. Um.”

“It’s sinking in?”

Jaehyun nodded. Put his face in his palm. He felt dumb and embarrassed about it, but his heart wouldn’t stop racing. He was feeling ten things at once. There was fear, of course, he was utterly terrified. But there was elation as well. A surge of hope and protectiveness, worries, so, so much gratitude... and above everything, an overwhelming love for Taeyong and the human-shaped blobs Miyoung was carrying for them. 

It was intense. Jaehyun felt like crying and laughing at the same time.

Doyoung watched him for a bit, head tilted in thought, before he stood up and patted Jaehyun’s shoulder.

“Go home. Celebrate with your husband. I’ll tell Taeil-hyung, I’m sure he’ll understand.” 

“But the Microlink account...” Jaehyun didn’t know why he said that. He was a dumbass.

“Is tier-two priority, which means Lucas should be able to handle it. I’ll make sure it’s handled. Take the rest of the day, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “You’re not my boss, you know.”

“Yeah, but I’m older, you still have to listen to me.” 

“Thanks, hyung.”

Doyoung grinned. “No, thank _you._ I just won a huge amount of money from the office betting pool.”

Jaehyun couldn’t even be mad about it.

*

Doyoung used his winnings to buy a hi-tech double stroller that could somehow be turned into bassinets _and_ car seats. It was a marvel of engineering. 

Jaehyun was sure Jungwoo had a hand in choosing it.

*

An interlude:

Taeyong graduated with a degree in music production and in full realization that he had to make his way from the bottom in the industry, sending demos of his music to countless entertainment companies and expanding his portfolio into something unique and marketable. In order to avoid being a literal starving artist, he had decided to work part-time at a convenience store as he tried to build his name as a producer. 

Taeyong’s best friend, Chittaphon “call me Ten” Leechaiyapornkul, was the president of SNU Dance Team for three out of the four years it took to earn his performing arts degree. He was the president until the day he received his diploma, and had led the team to winning multiple national titles together with his dance team aces, among whom were Taeyong and Sicheng.

After graduation, Ten had joined a famous dance company and toured across the world, selling sold-out shows. It was during this period that he realized he didn’t like touring as a professional dancer. He returned a year later to find Taeyong miserable on his part-time retail job, and Sicheng trying to raise funds for a dance studio. Naturally, Ten decided to fund Sicheng’s studio with his earnings from the tour. As talented as he was efficient, Ten also signed Taeyong up as their first instructor before the older even found out he _owned_ a studio. Taeyong gave a token protest, but even he knew he would be so much happier dancing and (occasionally) choreographing than being a cashier. 

The _Rainbow V_ studio, by virtue of having foreign, multi-lingual founders (one of whom was an internationally-renowned dancer) quickly became famous among Korean and not-quite-Korean kids alike. One of their first students were Huang Renjun, Kun’s seventeen-year-old half-brother, who just moved from China. Kun, neck-deep in his Pediatrics specialization degree, had felt guilty about not being able to help Renjun assimilate to his new environment. On Sicheng's suggestion, Kun had turned to his best friends for help. Taeyong and Ten welcomed Renjun happily. Sicheng even ended up adopting Renjun in every definition except for legally.

After that came Taeyong’s younger brother, Jaemin, who wanted a hobby that he could spend with his loved ones. He dragged his boyfriend to Taeyong’s class and immediately became fast friends with Renjun. With Jaemin and Jeno came Donghyuck, their little cousin, ever-curious and full of excess energy he had to spend somewhere. He was too lazy for competitive sports. He also turned out to be so talented at dancing that Taeyong actually went to persuade his aunt and uncle to let Donghyuck stay in his class.

A year later, Chenle, barely fifteen years old, had been enrolled by his parents, who were worried that their son was having difficulty making friends in his new school due to the language barrier. Chenle had flourished under Taeyong’s care and the friendship from the older students. A few weeks after, a younger boy, Jisung, had joined Taeyong’s class. He turned out to be Chenle’s classmate at school and Chenle and he had been inseparable ever since.

The same year, two days after his freshman orientation at SNU, Donghyuck dragged a Canadian-Korean boy named Lee Minhyung, a second-year transfer student, to the class and told them that he was joining this class, and if he sucked at dancing, then, well, Taeyong-hyung was going to teach him. 

(“Please call me Mark,” the boy said to his shoes, face suffused with pink after staring at Taeyong for too long. Donghyuck patted his shoulder sympathetically.

“It’s okay.” He said. “Crushing on Taeyong-hyung is practically a rite of passage for SNU students. And students from a neighboring universities.”

Taeyong facepalmed.)

Before they realized it, Taeyong’s class had somehow became one of the go-to classes for semi-foreign students—or, Taeyong privately thought, those who were lonely and needed a safe place to find friends. He was also proud to say that none of his students had quit over the five years he’d been teaching, even after he had to scale back his hours due to the demands of his main profession.

Before he realized it, he had come to view these kids as surrogate little brothers.

One evening, after they finished for the day, Donghyuck approached Taeyong and passed on a small, neatly-taped paper bag. 

“ _Eomma_ said these will be perfect for winter.” He handed the package to Taeyong, attracting the attention of his fellow students. They gathered around Taeyong and his little cousin like hungry chicks, despite the younger’s attempt to shoo them away. Taeyong shook his head with a smile and opened the bag to find a pair of warm, finely-knitted animal onesies.

“Hyung, those are so cute!” Chenle exclaimed. “Who are those for?”

“Are you having a baby?” Jisung asked, peering from behind his best friend. He was Taeyong’s youngest student but arguably the most talented. Taeyong would never say this out loud, but Jisung _was_ his favorite student… by a tiny margin. He was also the shyest, despite the three years of classes he had taken with Taeyong. 

“Well... yes.” Taeyong admitted. He felt the beginning of a fond smile curling his lips, an instinctual response he’d picked up when he thought of the twins these days. “Twins, actually.” 

“Whoaaaa… _Daebak!_ ” 

“Congratulations, hyung!”

“You’ll let us come and see them, right?”

“Settle down,” Taeyong laughed, gratified by his students’ enthusiasm. “They won’t be born for another two months. And yes, you'll all get to see them.”

“I bet they’re super cute!”

“All babies are cute, Lele.”

“That’s what I thought, until I saw my second cousin’s child.”

“Hyung,” Jaemin sidled up to him with a smile, ignoring his friends’ bickering. “Jeno, Hyuckie and I are still coming this weekend to help you with the nursery, right?”

“Ah, yes. We’d love the help.” Taeyong said as he packed the onesies carefully back into their packaging. Jaehyun and he had been taking more and more work so they could take an extended leave to care for the babies in their first weeks. Unfortunately, that also meant their Saturdays were often occupied, so that really only left Sundays for them to do anything significant in preparation of the twins’ arrival. They’d talked about working on the nursery separately in their free time, but decided against it because they wanted to do it together. “We’re a little behind schedule, actually.” 

“How far along are you?” Jeno asked, putting his chin on Jaemin’s shoulder.

“We've bought the painting supplies?” Taeyong said sheepishly.

Jaemin frowned. Under his breath, Jeno said a faint _oh, boy._

*

“Babe, Jaemin’s on the phone!” Jaehyun called. He poured his egg-milk-butter mixture into his mixing bowl and frowned. He made too much pancake mixture. They were going to be eating a lot of pancakes. 

“Pick it up for me, please? I’m about to hop into the shower. Thank you!” Taeyong replied back from somewhere in the house. Jaehyun wiped his hands and reached for Taeyong’s phone to pick up the call. Jaemin’s face appeared on the screen.

“Hi, hyung!” Jaemin said brightly, followed with a cacophony of greetings in the background calling for Taeyong. 

“Hi, Jaeminnie. Taeyong’s in the shower. Are you on your way here?” 

“Is that Jaehyun-hyung?” A voice asked, Jaemin turned his camera to his side, catching Jeno on the wheel. Jaehyun caught a glimpse of the backseat during the motion and it was... definitely full.

“Hi, Jeno-yah. What’s up?”

“We’re bringing reinforcements.” Jeno grinned at the camera. 

“Look at the road, you’re driving.” Jaehyun automatically said. Jaemin turned the camera towards the backseat, where he could see Donghyuck, Mark and Renjun. “Oh! Hi, Hyuckie, Mark. Renjun.” The boys replied with a chorus of greetings. “You’re all coming to help out?”

“Jisung and Chenle are coming as well.” Mark replied, sounding a little guilty. “Sorry we didn’t give you advanced warning, hyung.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Jaehyun smiled reassuringly. Taeyong and he wouldn’t have thought they were ready to have kids if they couldn’t roll with the punches. “We’re happy to have you.” 

Jaemin flipped the camera to the front again. “We’re stopping by the convenience store to buy lunch for later. Want us to pick up anything for you?”

“A couple bottles of orange juice, milk and eggs would be great. And a fresh bottle of maple syrup—you know the one your brother likes?” Jaehyun was already calculating how much _more_ pancakes he would be making in his head. Jeno ate a lot, and he was relatively sure that Jisung, Taeyong’s youngest, could out-eat all of them. “And don’t worry about buying lunch. Knowing your brother, he’d insist on cooking for all of you.” 

Jaemin grinned. “I told them that, but they wouldn’t believe me. See you soon then, hyung.”

“Drive safe!” Jaehyun replied before Jaemin hung up. He put down Taeyong’s phone and looked at his mixing bowl.

Definitely needed more pancakes.

The Dreamies—or what Taeyong’s students have taken to calling their dance team—arrived fifteen minutes later with extra paint cans and brushes. Taeyong ruffled their hair and kissed their cheeks, to varying responses: Jaemin, Hyuck and Chenle reciprocated happily, Jeno and Renjun endured them with the kind of serene patience reserved only for mothers, and Mark and Jisung seemed torn between grimacing and leaning in for more.

This would never not be funny to Jaehyun. He watched with a wide grin and, afterwards, settled with giving them hugs and fist-bumps. 

His offer for pancakes were met by cheers. They pulled chairs and crowded around the tiny breakfast nook, sitting on each other’s laps and sharing plates. True to Jaehyun’s prediction, Taeyong’s students demolished stacks of pancakes in record speed, regardless of the fact that it was their second breakfast. Oh, to be blessed with youthful metabolism.

Having the kids there also had the added benefit of getting them to nag Taeyong on eating a hearty serving of breakfast, instead of just a cup of coffee and a banana like he usually did. The morning saw Jaehyun and Taeyong having their breakfast leaning on the kitchen counter, sharing a plate of pancakes and watching the kids bicker with a smile. 

Jaehyun saw the soft look on Taeyong’s face and wondered if he was imagining an idyllic future where the kitchen is filled with laughter and bickering from their own children. 

It turned out Taeyong’s students had made a collective decisionthat the nursery would be their group project and gift to Taeyong and Jaehyun _._

“Leave it to us, Hyung. Renjun and I know how to do this.” Jeno said, giving him a sunny smile, to the background of Chenle and Donghyuck arguing about whether purple was a gender-neutral color. It had been twenty minutes since they entered the bedroom and the only thing they have agreed on was not to use a gendered color. 

Jaehyun didn’t care, but apparently his opinions didn’t matter.

As rowdy as the kids were, they proved to be efficient in dividing tasks among them and preparing the room for painting. Jisung, Mark and Donghyuck cleared out the room and laid down the canvas floor cover, Jaemin was a deft hand with the painter’s tape, and Jeno, Chenle and Renjun scrubbed and primed the walls. Taeyong and Jaehyun were not allowed to do a single thing except to relax and, if they were so inclined, prepare lunch. Jaehyun was somewhat impressed. Taeyong, in contrast, was so worried he checked on the kids approximately every ten minutes. That ended when Jaehyun literally curled up on him like a big puppy for a judicious amount of cuddling on the living room couch. 

After much cajoling and reassuring, they left for the grocery store to buy ingredients, returned home and started preparing lunch for seven hungry boys. Taeyong channeled his restlessness into lunch preparation and what started as a simple plan for kimchi jjigae and several vegetable side dishes suddenly turned into a four-course meal (of which Jaehyun cooked only one), complete with a plan for homemade _dalgona_ for dessert.

“I used to make this for Jaeminnie,” Taeyong said with a nostalgic smile as he mixed melted sugar with a pinch of baking soda. “He was such a good kid. He wanted ice cream, but he knew we didn’t have enough money to spend, except on special occasions. For his next birthday, he asked _eomma_ for some cookie cutters instead of ice cream.” Taeyong handed Jaehyun a star-shaped cookie cutter. “We stayed home and made _dalgona_ together for hours. It kind of become a birthday tradition, even after we were able to afford ice creams.”

Jaehyun thought about his bowling-alley and pizza-party birthdays. Something must have shown on his face because Taeyong shoved a slightly-misshapen piece of _dalgona_ between his lips. 

“Don’t feel bad. I have nothing but fond memories.” He wrinkled his nose. “Except for the part where Miya-noona forced us to brush our teeth for a full two minutes afterwards. Every single time.”

He kissed Taeyong anyway, gently and thoroughly, which dissolved into chuckles when his husband complained about having a piece of the candy stuck between his teeth. They were interrupted by the sound of multiple feet descending down the stairs.

“Are you making _dalgona?_ ” Jaemin fluttered into the kitchen, tempted by the smell of burnt sugar. The rest of the boys were busy tittering about the luxurious spread they saw on the dining table. 

“Hyung—you cooked all of this?” Mark asked, eyes wide. Admittedly, Taeyong has gone all-out with the presentation. “This looks amazing.”

“This looks better than restaurant meals!” Chenle cried out, snapping what looked like a million pictures with his phone.

“Jaehyun helped.” Taeyong grinned, ever humble. “Hyuckie, wash your hands first or you’re not getting dessert.”

Jaemin, hands clean and dried, gave Donghyuck a look. “We’re making _dalgona._ ”

Donghyuck was the first in line for the sink. 

Lunch was a cheerful affair. Taeyong’s students were eager to update Taeyong about their lives, something they no longer get to do often during classes because as much as Taeyong was encouraging and friendly, he pushed them hard. It was clear to Jaehyun that Taeyong’s students missed him. Taeyong had been an older brother figure as much as a mentor to them. Mark hung on every word he said about his producing work.

Jaehyun vaguely remembered Donghyuck once telling them that Mark was an aspiring producer-rapper himself. His stuff was incredible, according to Donghyuck, who’d shared a few classes in the performing arts department with him. It looked to Jaehyun that Donghyuck himself thought Mark Lee was incredible… and amazing, funny, and cute. Jaehyun also thought Mark Lee was painfully oblivious, but Taeyong and he knew better than to confront their little cousin about his crush on Mark. 

Chenle, Jisung and Renjun were more interested in asking about the twins. Jaehyun knew Jaemin and Jeno had shared updates from the Lee-Jung Family Group Chat, with their permission, once the news was out that they were adopting. It was endearing how excited they were about the potential of babies, but while Jisung was shy about asking if he would be allowed to visit, Chenle and Renjun had no qualms. 

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Chenle suddenly said, when they were taking turns around the stove to cook the _dalgona_ pieces. He excused himself to retrieve something from his car and returned with a big, lavishly-wrapped package, presenting it to Taeyong and Jaehyun. “From my parents.” He paused. “Though I don’t think we should open this in the kitchen.”

Taeyong, Ten and Sicheng were used to getting gifts from the Zhongs, who seemed to think that the studio was responsible for restoring Chenle’s happiness and sunny disposition. Taeyong, apparently Chenle’s favorite hyung, received the most gifts, which initially he had trouble accepting because he would never in his life be able to repay them.

The problem was, while gift-giving was a delicate balance of giving _just the right amount_ so as not to burden the recipient in Korean culture, it didn’t quite apply to Chenle’s parents. Chenle had told Taeyong with an innocent grin that he could refuse once or twice, just for show, but if he insisted on not accepting the gift, it would be highly offensive to his parents. If Taeyong-hyung insisted on repaying the gift with a more expensive one, Chenle’s parents would just gift him with something _even_ more luxurious.

After a lot of indirect negotiations via Chenle—who enjoyed this far too much, in Taeyong's opinion—Mr. and Mrs. Zhong finally agreed on sticking to edibles for their gifts to Taeyong, except for special occasions. What followed over the years was boxes of exquisitely-handmade traditional Japanese mochi, colorful French macarons, and gourmet Belgian chocolates. Just things they picked up randomly in their travels, Chenle’s parents had said. They were also things Taeyong would never be able to resist. He was sure Chenle tattled to his parents about his sweet tooth, the little traitor. 

(Jaehyun saw the Pierre Marcolini box of chocolates Taeyong had received from them this one time and simply smiled. Commenting on the cost would just make Taeyong fret, and his baby deserved the best things in life, after all.)

They relocated to the living room after cooking enough _dalgona_ to feed an army. Taeyong and Jaehyun sat thigh-to-thigh on the sofa and put the box on their lap. Taeyong carefully lifted the lid of the thick, sturdy paper box—the kind that Jaehyun’s mother used to save and re-purpose—and unwrapped the white tissue paper to reveal a pair of cashmere blankets, one in dove-grey and the other powder blue, the perfect size for a toddler. 

Jaehyun recognized the brand attached to the corner of the blankets. His heart warmed with the knowledge that Chenle’s parents must have had taken great care and consideration in choosing this gift. 

“Lele… these blankets feel amazing. And so warm.” Taeyong murmured, running reverent fingers over the surface of the blankets. “This is too generous.”

Chenle shrugged. “You know _mama_ and _baba._ ” 

“Hey, there’s a note. _Congratulations on your twin girls_ .” Donghyuck read from behind Taeyong’s shoulder. “ _Please accept our gift with our kindest, sincerest wishes_ … et cetera, et cetera... oh! _As always, thank you for caring for our Lele. Our son adores and idolizes you so much. We hope you continue to—”_ His words were cut off by a groan from Chenle and laughter from the other kids.

“They’re exaggerating!” Chenle cried, burying his red face behind Jaemin’s back, inviting more teasing from his friends. 

“Does that mean you don’t _adore and idolize_ Taeyongie-hyung?” 

“No! I mean, yes! I mean, no, I didn’t mean—”

“Lele,” Taeyong gasped, clutching his chest dramatically, “You _wound_ me!”

“Ugh, good _bye._ ” Chenle climbed over Jeno and Jaemin to the end of the couch, all but ready to make his escape. Taeyong pulled him back with a deceptively thin but strong arm and pressed a quick kiss on his temple.

“I'm just kidding. I adore you, too, Lele.” He ruffled the Chinese boy’s hair, making him flush even harder, if that were possible. Jaehyun reached over Taeyong’s back and rubbed Chenle’s shoulder. 

“Please send our thanks to your parents, Chenle.” He said, even though he knew Taeyong and he would personally call Chenle’s parents to thank them later. 

They were all good kids. Jaehyun was glad Jaemin, Jeno and Donghyuck had landed themselves in this particular group of friends. 

The kids decided to paint the walls of the nursery with an _ombre_ color—pale, sky-blue on one end, graduating to a deep night-sky purple on the other. Jaehyun couldn’t even begin to fathom how they did that. Jeno had tried to explain this trick with wet sponges and paint layering, but most of it flew through Jaehyun’s head. He only cared that it looked good. It seemed like Jeno wasn’t lying when he said Renjun and he were prized members of the set design team in their university’s theater club. 

Taeyong’s students left with explicit instruction for them not to furnish the room until they returned, so Taeyong and Jaehyun restrained themselves to repainting the problem corners and cleaning the over-painted crown molding. They got more paint on their shirts than the wall. 

Three days later, after the paint had dried, Renjun returned to their house and spent the whole afternoon drawing the most beautiful meadow, daylight on one side and moonlit night on the other. Flowers, trees, clouds, fireflies and stars. In the center, he drew a family of four moomins having a picnic. 

Jaehyun saw the finished work later that night. He turned to his husband and asked, “So Renjun is in med school? Not art school?” 

"Yes." Taeyong snuggled back to Jaehyun’s chest and said, with a satisfied smile: “Over-achieving Chinese immigrant kids, according to Kun.” 

“I’d say.” Jaehyun wrapped his arms around Taeyong’s waist and took in the lovely details of the crescent moon. “Maybe we can bribe them into painting our guest bedroom, too.” He said, after a while, sending his husband into a fit of giggles.

*

Taeyong had always been prudent about spending, reading all the labels and checking all the expiration dates, doing cost-benefit analysis he alone could understand before buying a single floor cleaner. Jaehyun disliked shopping, so he was happy to let Taeyong do it.

This tendency seemed to blow up now that they would be potentially responsible for two tiny human beings, who would be completely dependent on them. 

There were apparently baby-specific version of even the most mundane things, like dish soap or laundry detergent. The baby bottles even required a separate brush for washing. In his free time, Taeyong had spent hours reading product reviews in parenting forums and making notes on the pros and cons of one product over the other. This was a level of obsessiveness that Jaehyun had never seen before, not even when they were planning their wedding. 

Too bad this wasn’t something they could ask their friends to help.

Along with adopting a doomsday-preppers level of planning, Taeyong also became… quieter, as they came closer to the due date. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable at first. Taeyong still fussed over Miyoung like a mother hen, taught his classes in the studio, produced arrangements and compositions at his famed speed and quality. He still waited for Jaehyun to return from the office, half-asleep and stubborn, always ready with dinner. 

Sometimes, though, Jaehyun would meet Miyoung’s eyes over a Sunday-morning brunch with Taeyong and saw concern mixing with hesitation there, as if she could sense something was wrong, but unsure if she would be overstepping her bounds for asking. More often than not, Jaehyun would close the door to their home behind his back to find Taeyong lost in thoughts, staring at his mobile phone or his laptop vacantly. Sometimes Jaehyun came close enough to steal a glance on what was on the screen—parenting blogs—before Taeyong realized he was there. Jaehyun would try to broach the subject as they were having supper or over mint tea before bed, but Taeyong brushed it off and merely gave him a smile. 

Taeyong’s actions were much more honest than his words. 

Taeyong was affectionate by nature, always seeking the touch of people closest to him. He’d play with Jaehyun’s fingers when he was reading a book, drape himself all over Jaehyun on the couch when they were binge-ing a TV show, or rub his cheek against Jaehyun’s clavicle in his sleep. He was, in the most literal sense, clingy. It was something that used to make Taeyong self-conscious, but Jaehyun made every effort to show his husband how much he enjoyed this little quirk of his. It paid off; Taeyong was so comfortable now his clinginess had become subconscious, instinctual. 

That also meant it was immediately obvious when something was off. Taeyong became closed off, curling in on himself both physically and mentally, instead of reaching out. He would bite his nails, rearrange the space around him, wash his hands over and over again as if he could scrub away his worries. It was painful to see because Jaehyun _knew_ Taeyong wanted comfort, but felt too guilty about inconveniencing people. 

Jaehyun had learned to recognize the signs and coax him out of that mindset, slowly, patiently, over the course of their relationship. Taeyong had told Jaehyun that he was better at managing his stress these days, compared to his college years, and Jaehyun had certainly seen progress since they first met. Still, sometimes Taeyong got caught in his own head, and it could be hard to climb out of that well alone.

Jaehyun had returned to a dark living room tonight. He could see that dinner was cooked and served, but left cold on their breakfast nook. The light beside the door to Taeyong’s studio wasn’t on, which meant he was not inside and working. 

Jaehyun left his bag and suit jacket on the kitchen chair and made his way upstairs. He had a feeling where Taeyong would be. 

“Love?”

He was right.

Taeyong looked up and blinked at him. He was sitting on the floor, against the wall, facing the cots they’d borrowed from Sunmi-noona. His arms were around his knees. Jaehyun noticed with a quiet dismay that his nails were bitten to the quick. 

Taeyong had visited the nursery everyday, over the past few days—sometimes multiple times per day. He’d move things in and take them out again, dust all the surfaces, smooth invisible wrinkles on the curtain and wipe imagined smudges on the mirror. 

“I’m home.” Jaehyun stepped in and kneeled beside his husband, taking both Taeyong’s hands gently in his own. 

“Welcome back.” Taeyong’s voice was small, his smile tremulous. Jaehyun smiled back, a new kind of fondness blooming in his heart.

They’d decided a few weeks ago that they would start a number of rituals, because they were going to be parents and role models to their children. One of the rituals was to leave and return to each other with a greeting and a smile. Another was to practice daily gratitude, literally, by thanking each other for at least one thing everyday, however small. The latest one was never to go to bed angry. It was a living, constantly evolving list, and Jaehyun loved Taeyong for coming up with that idea.

He sat shoulder-to-shoulder with his husband, resting his back against the wall, keeping one of Taeyong’s hands intertwined with his. Taeyong immediately scooted closer and rested his head on Jaehyun’s shoulder, seeking comfort. Jaehyun let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Taeyong's sigh was long and slow. Jaehyun waited.

"I don't know if I’m ready for this.”

Jaehyun hummed. “Why would you think so?”

"I… What if I turn out to be a bad father?" 

Jaehyun kind of saw this coming, to be honest. He knew how Taeyong could get caught up in his own insecurities. Taeyong had confessed, one quiet night after a third date that lasted eleven hours (they didn’t even sleep together), that as much as he was determined not to let his childhood define him, being abandoned by his father had left an emotional scar.

Jaehyun privately thought that his insecurities were also a byproduct of being the middle child in a single-parent home, with a beautiful, overachieving older sister and an adorable, endlessly kind little brother, both popular on their own right. 

Jaehyun wished Taeyong would believe him when he said how lovely he was, how much his friends and students looked up to him, how precious he was to Jaehyun. How everything Taeyong disliked about himself were things that made his complicated, flawed husband radiant to Jaehyun. 

"Hyung…” He cradled Taeyong’s hands in both of his own, pressed a light kiss to the fingers. “You are a person with the biggest capacity to love that I know. And it shows in everything that you do. Your friends love you. Your students love you. My friends love you more than they love _me_." 

"Don’t be silly." Taeyong snorted. “Your friends love you.”

"Jungwoo knitted you a pair of mittens and a matching hat.” It had protruding bits of fabric on the top that resembled cat ears. Jungwoo had quickly become one of Jaehyun’s favorite colleagues. “The only other person Jungwoo’s ever knitted anything for was Doyoung-hyung, and it was a pair of socks. For our secret santa."

Taeyong laughed. 

"Socks. They’re _dating_. Jungwoo has never knitted me anything." 

They lapsed into silence. Taeyong still had that lost, faraway look in his eyes. Jaehyun wanted it gone, but he didn’t know what to do. He wound his arm around Taeyong’s waist and pulled him closer. 

“I'm doing this with you, you know that, right?” He murmured. “So even if you're not perfect, it's fine. I will never be, either. That's why we're doing this together." 

Taeyong took a deep, shaky breath and burrowed into Jaehyun’s chest.

“I’m scared.” A barely-there whisper, as if Taeyong was confessing something shameful. Jaehyun pressed a kiss on the crown of his head and closed his eyes, burying his nose in the clean, coconut scent of Taeyong’s shampoo. 

He understood how Taeyong felt. Their twins weren’t even born and Jaehyun would bleed himself dry for them without a second thought. 

“I am too, hyung.”

Love was a terrifying thing.

They sat there, tangled and breathing together.

*

Three weeks later, two tiny bundles swaddled in hospital-regulation blankets were handed to Jaehyun and Taeyong—one for each: Jung Ara and Jung Yoora, just a little underweight, but perfectly healthy otherwise. Miyoung had held them close to her chest for twenty minutes, whispering her wishes and goodbyes, before letting them go. 

“Thank you.” She said to Taeyong and Jaehyun, looking a little teary but also immensely relieved.

The newborns were so tiny Jaehyun grew stiff, afraid of holding them too tight, or worse, dropping them. The one in his arms was too young to open her eyes, face scrunched in the discomfort and hunger, ready to wail her protest.

Taeyong ended up crying first, as he fed Yoora a bottle of warm milk for the first time. 

Jaehyun walked over to his sobbing husband, resting his head lightly on top of his husband’s, for Taeyong’s comfort as much as his own. Under the layers of her blanket, Ara was warm and solid in his arms. She was only a little over five pounds but she felt so much heavier, one of the two anchors that solidified his little family.

The rush of love he felt for these three people, none related to him by blood, was almost overwhelming in its scale and intensity. 

Ara shifted in his arms, tiny fingers opening and closing.

“Welcome home.” Jaehyun whispered.

♥♥♥

**Author's Note:**

> Ages: Taeil is 32. Taeyong is 29, Jaehyun is 27, and everyone around them (Sicheng and Jungwoo included) adjusts to their age accordingly (aged up by 4 years). Lucas and Mark are 23, Norenminhyuck are 22, and Chenji are highschool-aged. Xiaohenyang are obviously babies. Drop me a line if you're still confused! 
> 
> This takes place in the same universe as [it's the sweetest thing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18706351), but reading that is not required in order to understand this story. I do appreciate if you check it out, though.
> 
> When I posted that first fic, I really thought this was going to come much faster... but real life happened and before I knew it, it's two months later. I do plan to write more in this universe, but I will be starting grad school overseas in September, and in the midst of resigning my job, planning for my move and the demands of my studies, I don't know how often I will be able to update. If I _do_ update, though, I will try to write them as self-contained stories with no cliffhangers. 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for giving this story a chance. I will be very happy if you could leave a comment (even if it's just to tell me you hate it!). Kudos are appreciated as well! Otherwise, hmu @ my [twitter](https://twitter.com/ephersy) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/ephers) :)


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